More Broken BonesJohnny Cash is my new hero.
Newest
It's OverKSPT 660 AM fades out when I take the turn off of Dunlap Road. It will briefly come back when I crest the next hill, by the unclaimed corrugated steel shed and the remains of a Columbus Trailer that was killed by Hurricane Danny in 1997. The asphalt gives up and turns to gravel, and the unprotected clutch buzzes violently as I miss third gear. I call the truck a Motherfucker and slam the shifter into place. My hand is numb except for my pinky, which is still jammed from falling off Amy’s Kawasaki.It's Over
Even above the rattle of my own engine, I can hear the buzz of a Kawasaki in the distance. This justifies the cloud of dust looming over the
by ~juzam
Blue RidgeIt was a one-room cabin, never painted, with a wood stove.Blue Ridge
Chopping firewood kept my father in shape for the few years we lived there.
And the dogs would burn their noses if they ventured too close.
The last time we drove by the porch had caved in. That was seven years ago, and we did not stop,
but drove on to Blacksburg.
Down the mile-long hill that my mother used to bike up every afternoon.
If nothing else remains of it now, there is still a quart-sized mason jar of wild spearmint on the top kitchen shelf next
by ~juzam
Leaving Santa BarbaraLeaving Santa Barbara and Going to DurhamLeaving Santa Barbara
The 9-hour cross-country flight gives me all the time I need to think of the moment I’ll first see you— you’ll be leaning on the south wall of baggage claim area D. Your hands pulled inside the sleeves of your corduroy pea coat.
Your eyes on the escalator.
I’ll be edging my way past the other weary travelers, powerwalking on a sprained ankle, and ignoring the closed bookstores,
and flower-vending machines.
I must hurry. I have only 5 days here.
by ~juzam
US 15-501 It’s the hot and humid Sunday after graduation and Jade Suri is sitting in the driver’s seat of her new Toyota Prius, a recent gift from her ridiculously-wealthy-yet-environmentally-obsessed-uncle-who-lives-in-Orlando and she is driving, say, 45 mph along highway 15-501-South. In the back seat is God Hurley, Jade’s ex-boyfriend, ex-Physics-Lab-Partner, ex-Bodyguard (inside joke), and permanent “Forever Bestest Friend.”US 15-501
God’s real name is Ben, but everyone calls him God because in 6th grade he made a fluke half-court shot to win a basketball game at the buzzer. God
by ~juzam
Favourites
Eviction of Alice CarpenterIn the low country, in the swamp-peppered cradle of Louisiana,Eviction of Alice Carpenter
the widow Alice Carpenter trims a potholed lawn made dense
by the suffocating fruitfulness of bayou humidity beyond rickety porch fronts
and the screen door still dewed from morning rainfall.
She pauses.
And she motions insincere welcome with a nod
at the White Man in his tawdry emerald suit.
She watches, blamelessly spiteful, as he steps proudly over cracked cement
and into her peeling kitchen to speak of business with the Brother.
When he l
by ~catching
New Orleans MinuteTime sashays like a creole strumpet, barefoot and brown down Rue Madeleine past this window, this table, where gumbo steams and shrimp tails clutter my plate. A molasses haze fogs the lamplight. A young man too full of libation succumbs to this damp heat, bent nearly double,New Orleans Minute
splatters his feet. A coasting cabbie slows to say, Laissez le bon temps rouler and laughs until his brakelights fade.
by !qed
Internal Clocka thousand clocks circumference me long analog ones with red print, small round ones with two ringers on the top, many small round ones large square ones,Internal Clock
a few grandfather clocks; long, tall proud and strong, made of fine cedar and crafted to perfection.
somehow, I remain stilled in air....surrounded by all of times most valuable possessions it possesses a sense of lost security a spell casted to whom a dark figure would remain or the child of light an angel or a demon .
two hundred small round clocks a hundred long analog one
by ~attitude2k
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Santa Barbara, CA
- Favourite band or musician: The Mountain Goats
- Favourite poet or writer: Garrison Keillor
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Che un sorriso nasconde spesso un gran' dolore.
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